


Grace of Winter

by aNightofDarkTrees



Category: Seven Kingdoms Trilogy - Kristin Cashore
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aNightofDarkTrees/pseuds/aNightofDarkTrees
Summary: Anyone on the ship could tell you when the Lady killer caught sight of the graceling Prince standing on the shore. Even the crash of the waves had seemed to pause respectful of the searing tension between the gracelings’ eyes.Katsa and Po reunited after the book.
Relationships: Katsa/Po (Seven Kingdoms Trilogy)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok this is my all time favorite book... I know I know it's impossible to choose, but here it is nevertheless. This will be a multi-chapter fic that I post on every now and again just for myself and whatever random reader loves these characters like I do.

The air was crisp as Katsa rode along the western road from the Middluns. The weather had begun to turn a few days before, the last days of autumn reluctantly giving into the cold embrace of winter. She rode alone a solitary figure on an empty stretch of land. Soon she would leave the grassy plains of the Middluns as the road began to turn south towards South Bay and Sunport and the waving seas of grass would give way to the thick forests of Sunder, but for now the land was smooth and flat and she pushed her mount down the road at a speed that made the growing chill of the air sting her eyes and cheeks.

She had been this way once before, it has been midsummer then and the grass had shown green in the summer heat. That had been quite a different ride. In those days she had not ridden alone for King Randa’s Lady Killer was always flanked his spy master. Her figure in the bright colors of Randa’s court had inspired fear, and those they had met on the rode were quick to move out of her way. The memory of the sobbing man his hand at an unnatural angle even all these years later made her grit her teeth in anger and disgust.

She shook her head to dispel these thoughts, she was a Lady Killer no more, not for King Randa anyway, and now she rode in plain leather leggings the only thing distinguishing her status the fine make of the green silken blouse beneath a well woven woolen coat she worn as she made her way south then west.

As she rode her mind wandered over the past months. Her trip to Bitterblue City had been pleasant and the months she spend there had not only given her the great personal joy of teaching the women of the recovering nation the art of defending themselves, but it had also helped to secure Bitterblue’s reign in a country that was still pulling itself from the fog of King Leck’s wicked grace. She had ridden then to the Middluns as she had told Po she would choosing to cross the mountain paths only a few weeks before. The late autumn weather in the heights of the pass had been much cooler then the weather was here in the low lands, but the journey had been pleasant enough. She couldn’t remember when, if ever, she had spent so much time alone, and she relished the solitude. She had enjoyed her days spent in the magnificent wild beauty of the Sunder forest, as the last time she had ridden through the ancient soaring pines her heart and mind had been consumed with pain of Po’s revelation of love.

Po. Her mind often flew to him so far away from her in the equally wild landscape of his homeland. It was hard to believe it had been only a year ago she had made her way through that forest so unprepared for all that followed. She had written him often over the past months unsure at first if she should, unsure if his grace could pick up inked words off of a page, but when she had received letters in return she had found herself looking forward to them reading them with smiles, concern, and at times a blush. There was one letter in particular that she had all but decided to burn after it arrived terrified that anyone should ever read it. In the end she kept it for it was the closest she had to his touch in the past months and the thought of his touch brought comfort and at times strength.

And now her mind turned to Randa and the past week and a half she had spent at the court of the Middluns for there she had needed all the strength Po’s embracing letter had to offer. She felt her shoulders tense at the thought of her reception at the court. Raffin had of course warned his father of her coming arrival and paved the way among other couriers, but had still been no easy task to be received by the King that had once treated her as nothing more than a savage trained dog. She had found him much changed in her eyes, perhaps it was the confidence in herself that had so changed her perspective, but she would wager it had in no small part to do with the death, pain, and atrocities she had faced in the year sense she last seen the king than any true change in the Randa himself.

They had a terse agreement Randa and Katsa, she was not his, but neither was she anyone else’s. Their agreement had been quite simple, and she had little doubt Oll and Raffin had played no small part in its formation. She would remain a Lady of the Middluns, and as long as she served as the agent of no other king, Randa could tolerate her coming and going with no true threat to his control. A savage dog that you turned loose because its care had begun tiresome was quite a different matter than a dog that choose to serve a new master.

Katsa had no doubt that even now Randa was securing his narrative as Katsa’s benevolent former master, but what the King of the Middluns said about her now was little of her concern. She had treasured the remainder of her visit. The time she had spent seated in Raffin’s study as the two recounted the events of the past year had healed whatever wounds had remained on Katsa’s heart from her struggles against the mad Monsean king.

Convincing Helda to travel to attend to young Queen Bitterblue had been no great difficulty either. Her soft reproach when she had asked after her marriage to her ‘young man’ had been quietly received, but Helda had said nothing else on the matter and Katsa had privately wondered what bit of Helda logic had settled the issue in the older woman’s mind.

She had seen Helda off just yesterday morning shortly before leaving herself. The older women was to travel with a set of merchants friendly to the council. Her own leave taking had been a small affair. She still felt the small pang in her heart at the sight of Raffin waving her off quiet Bann by his side. One day, she had promised herself, when Raffin was king she would spend many months in the Middluns teaching the young girls that had grown up with stories of her savagery the art of defending themselves, and then she would have all the time to visit Raffin as often as she pleased.

The horse’s breathing had become labored beneath her and she reined the animal back her attention returning to the road. The path had begun its gradually swing southward, and if the weather held, by the time the sunset she should be in Sunder among the trees.

**********

The remainder of her trip to South Bay past uneventfully. The going was slower beneath the thick pines of Sunder, and as usual she chafed at the pace. She switched horses at small inn on the updated list of council contacts Raffin had given her before she left. The considerably longer list had given her a brief pause, but she was grateful to it now as she hastily made her way south. She had arranged for passage to Lienid before leaving Monsea, and there was a merchant ship that had agreed to deliver her to Po’s castle before returning to Roy’s City.

She arrived in South Bay in the midmorning. The air so near to the crashing waves of the sea had been considerably warmer than in the Monsean mountains and even warmer than the crisp chill of the Middluns, never the less she could feel the embrace of winter, and now more than ever was desperately anxious to be on her way. She had missed Po desperately these past months, and now so close to a reunion she found herself edgy with excitement, but also apprehension. What would it be like to see him again? She imagined how he might be changed in the months since she had last seen him. Had his grace grown and shifted? Would he welcome her? Had he longed to see her as she longed to see him?

The questions had pounded relentlessly around in her head during the long voyage to Lienid. Her anxiety was somewhat relieved as she found herself teaching the boys abroad the ship and some of the men little tricks to improve their fighting poweress, which to the great dismay of the captain they insisted on trying out on each other. She spent most of her time in the riggings crashing through the wintery seas contemplating how completely her life had changed in such a brief time.

The last letter she had received from Po had been given to her by one of the deck hands the day she arrived on board. It had come by way of a Monsean merchant traveling from Bitterblue’s City. It was short stating only that he was returning to his castle after the past months spent in Roy’s City with his mother and grandfather attending to the business of the kingdom and setting in place the plans for Katsa to begin offering her lessons in the capital city the following spring. His fighting had improved since they had parted, and he looked forward to testing himself against the wildcat. He missed her dearly. Her letters lit his heart like her captivating gaze that night the sunset had lit her form on the lake in Sunder. His love. Po.

She had smiled at the thought of once again testing herself against Po. It would be a pure joy after these past months of training beginners. She had tucked the letter quietly away in a growing stack she kept in a leather traveling case in one of her saddle bags. If she was smart she would burn them all or at least the ones that no eyes should ever see, but she had kept them. When she saw him again in the flesh she would loose this silly obsession with written words on paper that his hands had touched. Then she would burn them.

Time on the ship seemed to both drag and fly in intervals. Nights were the longest as she rarely felt tired from her days of pacing the ship and climbing into the riggings. She was treated well on the ship It was well known among the Lienid that the graceling Lady from the Middluns was tied to their own beloved graceling prince. It was a friendly respect, but she found it set her apart from the crew in a way that is hadn’t abroad Fawn’s ship. There was one youth that would crawl into the riggings beside her to hear the story of the adventures of Prince Po and the Lady Katsa, and Katsa did her best to satisfy the youth’s insatiable appetite for the details of the tale. He had a sister he said. She planned to attend Katsa classes in the spring. His brothers young wife had also talked of attending.

He told her the stories of Lienid, and she found herself fascinated with the drama and tragedy of the tales so different than the courtly stories she had been fed as a child. The Lienid were a people that loved fiercely and faced grief with the resolute stoniness their mountains. They were as unpredictable their homeland quick to emotion, but slow to a true anger. They were gifted fighters, perhaps prone to vanity, but they were a handsome people so this was to be expected. Katsa loved listening to the boys tales, and the more she listened the more fascinated she became. Her time in Lienid before had been so brief, and she found herself each day looking forward to a chance to explore the beauty of the island nation of the boy’s tales.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a little past 2 weeks when they finally spotted Lienid on the horizon. The call had come down from the riggings just as the last of the sun’s rays danced across the shifting surface of the water. Even with her eyesight Katsa could only just make out the smudge of land in the rapidly dimming light. But it was there. A definite darkness of the horizon. Katsa’s heart had risen in her chest at the sight. Po. She sent her mental cry over the vast expanse of the sea with all the mental energy she could muster.

_Po. Po. PO!_

She couldn’t help but smile then at the memory of her first attempt to contact Po in this manner. His look of utter shock still brought laughter into her chest. She doubted he could hear her now though. They were many leagues now from the cost, but as they drew nearer throughout the night she found herself straining on the upper riggings of the ship calling to him in her mind occasionally. Foolish though it might be she found she could not help it.

In the early hours just before dawn they docked at the miniature port that served to supply Po’s small castle. Katsa had spent the whole night in the riggings straining her eyes against the darkness. As they had gone past the castle a half hour before Katsa had thought she might have seen a dark figure on the sweeping balconies, but even with her sight she hadn’t been sure in the predawn gloom.

The sailors were unloading the large crates that would supply the castle through the winter when the sun burst over the horizon throwing the whole world into a shocking array of red, gold, and orange. In the dazzling array created by light reflecting between the towering stone cliffs and the sea she finally caught sight of him. He must have known they were coming. His grace would have seen to that. And he was there. His beautiful body resting casually against the rough stone cliffs that closed around the small beach. His arms were crossed over his chest. His head ever so slightly resting against the rock face. She fought against a cry that rose in her throat as the sight of him. So perfectly whole his golden skin gleaming in the light.

_Po…_

And his eyes found hers on the deck. His beautifully strange unseeing eyes that reflected the dazzling array of light. His eyes that even now had the power to capture her freezing her in place a flush racing up her neck.

_Po_

She had whispered it in her mind afraid he would flinch at her mental touch, but his gaze only flashed. The only indication at all at the intensity of emotion he felt at the image, the sense of his wildcat returning to him for he remained where he stood looking for all the world like at any moment he might decide the mere effort of standing was more than he could manage.

Anyone on the ship could tell you when the Lady killer caught sight of the graceling Prince standing on the shore. Even the crash of the waves had seemed to pause respectful of the searing tension between the gracelings’ eyes. And then the lady was moving dashing down the length of the ship. Weaving between the deck hands and the general activity of the docked ship. She didn’t stop as she reach the edge of the deck throwing herself off of the prow in a wild jump that should have been impossible, but she landed lightly in the dense grey sand. It was only when her feet hit the strangely dark colored earth she seemed to remember the audience she had, and the ridiculousness of her actions. She could have taken the plank.

But Po was before her as she rose from her crouch and his eyes pinned her in place stealing her breath. He must have moved even faster than she. Must have know exactly how she had planned to throw herself off the prow. Even before she had made the decision herself. For he was here right in front of her. She found herself wondering how his grace had grown these past months. But then Po took a step towards her and she found such thoughts suddenly unimportant.

He said nothing as his hand reach to cup her check the other reaching out to palm the small of her waist before his grip grew rough drawing her in against his chest as his lips leaning down to claim hers in a searing kiss.

Kasta gasped at the contact. Her legs suddenly struggling with the task of keeping her upright. How had she forgotten the strength of his effect on her. She shuddered and his tongue was in her mouth and she kissed him back. His hands were under her arms then lifting her to him. Her legs twinning around his waist. Her hands tangling in his hair. Their hunger for each other played out in a nearly frightening display as the crew looked on jeering and whistling at the lovers blind to their antics. 

It was when the slick heat of his mouth and the swirling patterns of his tongue began to play against the flushed skin or her neck that a particular section of one of those ridiculous letters he had sent her flashed into her mind. Po pulled back quite suddenly with a soft grown. He released his hold on her and she slid to her feet. He sighed into her growing hair.

“That was quite vivid my dear wildcat,” he said his voice somewhere between shock and reproach.

Kasta snorted against his chest. “Well you only have yourself to blame Lord Prince. It was you who wrote it.” _And a great many other things_ she added in her head her mind filtering through the several of the more interesting promises he had made in that last letter.

Po coughed then pulling away to turn toward the cliffs appearing to take a deep breath as he mastered himself. She laughed within her mind teasing him.

_This is your own doing and you know it. Whatever gave you the thought to put such things on paper Po! I have often thought of burning them for fear some poor lady maid would read them and faint._

He turned to her then a question in his eyes she could read well enough.

_No. I didn’t burn them. Stupid though it was. I couldn’t bring myself to._

At that he smiled, and then almost as if he couldn’t bare even the few short paces between them he pulled her back into his arms. She went willingly. It was ridiculous. Throwing herself off boat decks. Refusing to burn such letters. Nearly collapsing at his simple touch. Kissing him so in front of others. But Po had always brought this out in her. These extremes of emotions. This ridiculousness.

“Your ridiculousness, as you have termed it, is as precious to me as your tears were in the mountains of Monsea my dear wildcat. It should never shame you. Least of all among the Leinid who honor the ridiculousness of love.”

Katsa huffed at that stepping back from his chest. “Yes. I have been catching up on some Leinid lore on the trip here, and it would seem to me that the honor of the ridiculousness of love has served your people no better than it has served me. Worse in most cases if I remember correctly.”

Po head tilted his back as he laughed at that, “Ahh Kasta, now you have touched upon perhaps the greatest of debates among the Leinid. It does not surprise me you side with the academics and not the poets.”

Katsa rolled her eyes at that. Po reached to tangle a single hand in her growing curls. His eyebrow arched in question.

“I had thought to grow it out for winter. I won’t be traveling much these next couple of months, and at times I find myself missing it. Though at the moment I can’t think of a single reason why.”

Po smiled but seemed distracted by the feel of her soft brown curls beneath his finger tips. With his fingers still entwined in her hair he tilted her head back to once again scorch her lips in a fiery kiss that stole her breath.

“Oh my love, Katsa. I have missed you.”

The surge of emotion his words brought flowed from her to him. The memories of these past months of longing. Of missing his touch. His voice. His simple presence. He drew in a shuddery breath at the intensity of it. His arm reaching to draw her back to him again. His hand rested on her neck his thumb tracing the delicate arch of her cheek. And this time the crew did not jeer or whistle.

Certainly, many had returned to their tasks forgetting or ignoring the reunion on the beach. But there were several of the younger sailors that still watched their graceling Prince and the Lady killer bellow them. They watched in silence as his thumb moved along her jaw. As he whispered something against her lips that made the Lady’s skin flush. They watched the way his tongue seemed disappeared inside her mouth as though he needed a part of her to breath himself and she a part of him. They watched and the tale of Prince Po’s great love for the Lady and her great love for him that would be a favorite this winter in the halls of Roy’s City was born.

Po drew back yet again. This mustn’t go on. They would have time for intimate reunions later. Besides he found himself now at the edges of his self control. Katsa’s untempered emotions washing over him as he took in her flushed skin and unfocused eyes. For a moment he found himself wishing she had his grace so that she may know with the same certainty that he did what she did to him.

Katsa seemed to sense that in his gaze. Her glazed eyes slowly returning to focus.

 _I do not envy your grace Po. Even for all its convinces._

Po acknowledges the thought with a slight tilt of his head and nothing more. He reached for her hand twining his fingers in hers.

“A Leinid tradition,” he explained at her questioning glance, “so much better than the courtly linking of arms, don’t you think?”

She laughed then. For all his being a Prince, Po had never struck her as particularly courtly, and she squeezed her fingers against his in agreement.

“Much.”


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn’t long after the arrival of the ship that servants from Po’s castle and members of the near by town descended to the beach to arrange for the transfer of good and supplies to both the castle and the town.

There was a brief flurry of activity on the beach in which the crew was unloading the last of the large crates, and members from the town and the man who ran the castle in Po’s absence divided the supplies. Katsa observed with a cool interest. These interactions were so different from what she might have expected. She supposed she had expected something similar to the way things were on Giddon’s estate. But here, the people paid little attention to the two nobles in their midst, and Po was only occasionally asked his opinion. For the most they simply stood apart while the others worked to organize everything.

“That surprises you?” he asked quietly answering her thoughts. He stood behind her. His arms crossed over her shoulders.

“I told you I have no ambition to be an overlord. The townspeople govern themselves.”

“No,” she said tilting her head to rest it on the large muscles of his arms, “it doesn’t so much surprise me as I find it unusual. So very different then I’m used to."

“You’ll find Lienid different from the Middluns in many ways.”

She nodded absently at that thinking of the boy’s strange tales on the long trip here and the many other Lienid traditions she thought strange since meeting Po.

When the wild winds that had been lulled by the breaking dawn began to blast again, Katsa caught an unfamiliar sharp scent. She tensed unconsciously in Po’s arms, her eyes scanning the beach for the source of the odd smell.

Po chuckled at her sudden serious appraisal of the dark sands.

“It is only the llamas Wildcat, and I doubt even you would want to take on one of the beasts in a fight, though I have no doubt you could, you would doubtless at least get spit on.” He said still smiling.

 _Llamas?_ She asked repeating the strange word back to him.

He nodded at the edge of the beach where the sheer height of the stone cliffs met the sands. A couple of townspeople were bringing a small herd of strangely fuzzy horse like creatures down the steep stone stairs. There were 12 of them. They were tall with overly long necks, and they were strung in a line with strange halters and pack saddles strapped to their oddly furry forms. The animal in the front was larger than the others, and a boy sat astride it leading the beasts across the beach toward the now neatly gathered and divided supplies.

Katsa peered at the creatures, fascinated. “Where do they come from?”

Po shrugged, “I’ve heard they were originally in the eastern mountains of Monsea, but I don’t know for sure. The Lienid have had them for as long as anyone can remember, though those here are much larger than the those still found in Monsea.”

“Why not use horses?”

Po gestured to the steep stairs that lead up the cliffs, “Most in Lienid use horses, but there are several islands like mine where the only path from the port to the island are a set of steep stairs. We have horses of course, but the poor beasts have to be gently coaxed up the stairs, and most live their lives on the island never making the journey.”

Katsa stepped forward towards the lead beast that now stood patiently, the young boy holding his halter as others loaded the beasts with the supplies. They had nothing of the grace of a horse, but they looked hardy and their small cloven hooves and somewhat unbalanced appearance seemed to be well adapted to their task.

When she came another step forward the beast held by the young boy swung his head around to regard her. The animal had the most supreme look of dignified distaste she thought she had ever seen on any creature, and it almost made her laugh out loud. Po was right, there was something about the creature that made her think twice about ever wanting to challenge it in any test of wills.

“You were right Po,” she said with a smile turning her back on the creature, “I do not think I would like to get into any kind of disagreement with such an animal.”

Po laughed then, the sound echoing across the small beach. The sound made a great joy burst forth inside her. His laughter seemed to dismiss the last of her fears of returning to him. He was still Po, perhaps not the Po she had met that night in the gardens of Murgon City, but he seemed unchanged from the man she had left in the Monsea.

Though he tried to hide it, she caught the small glance of pain in his eyes at her thoughts and she cursed herself silently. She would have to get used to avoiding such thoughts once again.

It was shortly there after that the crew boarded the ship and took their leave smiling and waving on the deck as the pushed out to sea. When the beaches were clean, and the line of llamas had been laden with the supplies, they began to make their way up the steep steps to the island.

Katsa shouldered her pack hurrying towards the front of the line to talk to the young boy that was leading the creatures up the stairs.She was curious about the strange beasts and wanted to learn more. It had surprised her that such a young child was given the responsibility of leading the the animals until she caught his gaze. One eye a reddish brown, the others a dark grey.

She masked her shock quickly smiling at the boy. The Lienid honored the graced. This boy was no servant of the king he was a helpful hand to the town. Yes, Lienid was different than the Middluns.

Po had joined her knowing better than to offer to take her pack and listened to Katsa chatting with the boy. He was graced with the creatures. He was generally good with all creatures, particularly those who fed only on plants, but had always had a special ability with the llamas seeming to know what the creature wanted.

Katsa enjoyed listening to the boy, but it was the hard climb after weeks aboard the ship that she reveled in. Rejoicing in the familiar pull of muscles. Her internal exaltation had made Po chuckle and shake his head in a lull with her conversation with the boy.

“Only you would rejoice in the strain of a hard walk after weeks of relentless traveling.” He said with a smile.

“Only a fool would not rejoice in a solid walk after weeks at sea. It is not as if I have done anything but sit and pace for the last couple of weeks anyway” she said pointy.

“I find it hard to believe you relegated yourself to those simple tasks. It’s more likely you found some poor unsuspecting youth to train into the finest of warriors. After all, without a horse to abuse you would have to find some other outlet.”

He laughed out loud at her small look of indignation and she found herself wondering if he actually 'saw' the indigent quirk of her lips or simply felt the indignation as a product of his grace.

She saw him glance her way, and knew they would discuss it later. Thoughts of later brought to mind thoughts of time alone in his grand and wild home and thoughts of other things she had missed besides the feeling of solid ground. Beside her, she heard Po make a sound somewhere between a cough and a groan. He lengthened his stride and she laughed stretching out her legs to keep pace as they wound their way up the cliff.


End file.
